


Care

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: In the millenia he has existed, an eternity really, Lucifer has come to know many an approach, a touch, a reason.... But he's never known this.





	Care

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer that I don't own Lucifer or any of the show's characters and content.** I just started watching it recently and fell in love with the charming devil.

In the millenia he has existed, an _eternity_ really, Lucifer has come to know many an approach, a touch, a reason.  At the bare bones of it, a fact of humanity's very existence, they're _all_ linked to desire somewhere, somehow.  An impulse purchase or decision, a fleeting fancy, a plan in the works, sometimes even _revenge_.  Yes, he knows them well.

Gaze skating from styled hair to immaculate shoes and the curl of painted lips - that's interest, _lust_ , a pool of warmth low in the belly.  Fingers teasing up his arm, digging into his shoulder as the lady of the hour, evening, week, slides in close on the bench and offers her body in a leaning press of delicate flesh and soft curves into his side, a murmur left for his ear alone.  He'll fall into the spell of her, the game and web woven by her, all the while charmed by her naïve belief that _she_ is the mistress and he the conquest, as if he hasn't refined the art of seduction and courts it on every breath.

Men are a bit more hesitant in their approach, but no less subtle.  A glance here, a touch there, buying a drink for _him_ , the _owner_ , what a delight!  Perhaps, if they're shy, there will be a pickup line or two, or a game of footsie if they're a little daring.  But the most welcome are the few who think to pin him between their bodies and a table, a wall, his piano, something, eyes dark and voice low and _oh_ are they a _treat_ in bed.

_Wrath_.  It's in the stinging handprint gracing his cheek and the bone-pale fury of a woman scorned and accused of murder.  The curl of fingers around his neck and the knife digging into his gut, useless so long as the detective isn't nearby, but the mortal doesn't need to know _that_ , do they?  The biting chill in the air and flames on his skin and the howling of demons on the prowl, screams of the damned ringing in his ears.  The harmless bruise and burn of a ricocheting bullet, easily brushed aside, the flash in the detective's eyes as she gathers her child to her and bares her teeth at one naughty Malcolm Graham unaware of the devil creeping up behind him.  Broken bones and shredded wings carved and cut by a blade in angel hands and Lucifer laughs as he burns in the strength of that divine rage.

"This isn't over," he promised eons ago, and now living up to his word.

_Curiosity_ , his gift and his curse and humanity's, too, so ripe for picking and persuasion.  They want friends, family, success, money, to learn and explore and thrive.  They want to experience all that life might afford them and it brings them to him for a gift, for a favour, a way to sate the desire bright in their eyes.  And who is he to refuse His most treasured creations when they come to him for assistance?  Who is he to turn his back on _temptation_?  Of course, then there is the harmless curiosity he cannot in good conscience - hah! Imagine that, the devil actually has one - claim an IOU for.  The kind displayed by the detective's child, Beatrice, a _fascination_ with the world, wonder and awe and a friendly disposition that has her screaming his name in _welcome_ , familiarity, her tiny arms clamped tight around his legs as he pats her awkwardly on the head.  A young one's desire is an innocent thing and so he indulges her questions and pranks... as much as her mother will allow.

* * *

But how is he supposed to deal with _this_?  What can he possibly _do_ to stoke the flames of a desire he cannot read nor pry from the detec - from _Chloe's_ mouth?  How can he possibly entice her into a deal when he doesn't know what she _wants_?

He has not known this, this friendship, where she gives in want of nothing in return, where she takes his larger hands in her own and washes Father Lawrence's blood from his skin, where she asks him what _he_ wants and he answers without lie, _refuses_ to lie, and says he doesn't know.  He doesn't know what's expected of him, what's safe for him, how to arrange his body or where to put his hands when she sits beside him on the sofa, wine and blanket in hand.  She says "a penny for your thoughts" and he almost laughs because she'll be a rich woman for certain by the time he's done.  But she's sincere and warm and for some reason, impossible and _yet_ , he's cold.  Feels it down to his bones, a weariness that weighs him down and he doesn't know where to _start_.

They trade stories as they do sips of wine from the bottle, she of her childhood and early days as a police officer and he of the... less devilish days since "relocating" to Los Angeles.  Sometime in the dead of night exhaustion takes hold, a weakness only ever in her presence, and he wilts where he sits until surely too much of his weight is pitched against her.  He dozes there, comfortable when he shouldn't be, and all but rumbles a sleepy sound of contentment when fingers card through his hair, slow and rhythmic.

"It's okay to be upset by death, Lucifer," she says, quiet as the night air whispering against the windows, "it's okay to not want to talk about it.  But know I'm here for you anyway, whether you do or don't."

He might manage a thank you.  He _hopes_ he does, but sleep claims him too quickly to tell.

* * *

In the millenia he has existed, Lucifer has come to know many an approach, a touch, a reason.

And now he knows gentle, he knows selfless _care_.

**Author's Note:**

> My fics can also be [found here](https://scribblesdg.tumblr.com).
> 
> And if you just want to ~~scream~~ chat about Lucifer, you can find me on my [main blog](https://wrathoscribbles.tumblr.com) as well. I don't bite, I promise.


End file.
